


Not Satire

by hamston



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Read at Your Own Risk, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-09
Updated: 2019-10-09
Packaged: 2019-11-18 14:49:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 5,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18122465
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamston/pseuds/hamston
Summary: Notice: Originally, I wrote this piece for just myself and my friend to cathardically rant about stuff that annoys me about fandom culture and just the internet in general but then later decided to put it up. However, because I originally didn't write it for the world, I didn't pull back any punches and it's much more cynical than I would be if I was actually trying to change things. Basically, if you're having a bad day, I would advise against reading this.





	1. PR

In the year 2019, Jeff (tig old biddies) Kaplan sits at the conference table at Blizzard headquarters, sipping his cup of coffee. He barely looks up as his boyfriend Micheal storms into the room with a concerned look in his eyes.

"Hey Jeff?" asks Micheal.

"Yes honey?" Jeff replies.

"Do you remember how we built our entire business model on public relations and nothing else?"

"Of course."

Micheal's gaze pans over to the window, where a crowd of angry Reddit and Twitter protesters stand.

"It turns out that although he succeeded in making PR our entire business model, we're also really bad at PR."

"Yeah, I can see how that might be bad."

The giant crowd of protesters begins to walk towards the building. Jeff watches in horror as they disappear into the front door.

"We're in the end times, Micheal," says Jeff.

"Perhaps we should make love, just one last time?"

"Of course."

Micheal and Jeff are still making love by the time the protesters arrive, knocking down the conference room wall as they do.

"China Bad! Hong Kong Good!" they chant, "Blizzard Bad! Minecraft Good!"

As they wave around their protest-Mei flag, the head protester, a bi-sexual man wearing a My Hero Acadamia shirt and weed socks takes a stand on the table.

"Blizzard has really done it this time, Jeff!" he shouts. "Blizzard's opinion that we should support China is--"

"Wait, what?" Jeff interrupts. 

"I said, Blizzard's opinion that we should support China is disgusting."

Jeff and Micheal exchange a glance.

"Well, no, Blizzard doesn't have an opinion on the Hong Kong protests," says Jeff.

"I mean, some of us have opinions," says Micheal.

"Like how I think Hong Kong shouldn't be a part of China. The Chinese government is a piece of shit."

"Or how I also don't think that Hong Kong should be a part of China, but I don't trust the media covering the protest enough to feel comfortable expressing that opinion beyond a passing thought."

"Or how I don't care." says the secret third Overwatch person that no one really talks about.

"But Blizzard doesn't have an opinion," Jeff continues. "Blizzard is a corporation, not a person."

"We only stole that guy's money because we thought it would piss off the least amount of people and bring in more money for us in the long term." Micheal replies.

"Obviously, we were wrong, but that's just because of incompetence."

"Look, dude, we're liberals," says the head protester. "We're not offended by incompetence."

"We're offended by evil." another protester replies.

The head protester takes a step off the table to look Jeff eye to eye.

"I'm not really evil." says Jeff.

"Then where is the evil one?" the head protester replies.

"Well, there isn't really  _ one _ evil one."

"We have a massive artist team, and an advertising team," Micheal says, counting on his fingers. "and an even more massive public relations team..."

"Even our CEO isn't really like some grand overseer. We're more like a massive ant hive, controlled by the principal of economics."

"Wanting to make as much money as possible is pure evil," says the protester.

"We don't really see it that way," Jeff shrugs.

"You don't?"

"I just want my children to have the best future I can get for them."

"There's not really anything intrinsically wrong with wanting to make money," Micheal argues. "We live in America, where money isn't exactly a finite resource. Inherently, we're not really taking other people's ability to be wealthy away by acquiring wealth."

"We make games, we don't traffic children," Jeff replies.

All the protesters begin to murmur amongst themselves.

"I mean, you're games aren't really that good," one of them says.

"What do you mean?" asks Jeff.

"Your games aren't really that good. You're just a wealthy company with shitty business practices that can afford a lot of advertising and marketing for your mediocre games."

"You're an oligarchy," says another. "We have to see Tracer's ass every day when there's thousands of Indie games that are better."

"And you end up creating a culture that's not very good, because you further the use of stuff like microtransactions and paywalls."

Jeff wonders if the crowd is actually making some good points.

"Maybe you're right," he replies. "Maybe we are acting in a way that's harmful to society."

"But our point remains valid," says Micheal. "We're not really evil."

"I go home and I read to my kids and I don't really think that hard about what I do."

"When you do stuff like this, is just makes us confused. And it makes people who support the idea that society is built off of companies like ours think you're nut jobs."

"But that's an insane thing to believe," says a protester.

"We never said it wasn't," Jeff replies.

The crowd stands, flabbergasted, that Micheal and Jeff were actually able to make some good points sort of. Micheal turns to Jeff and kisses him hard. They do it on the floor right there. 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Notice: Originally, I wrote this piece for just myself and my friend to cathardically rant about stuff that annoys me about fandom culture and just the internet in general but then later decided to put it up. However, because I originally didn't write it for the world, I didn't pull back any punches and it's much more cynical than I would be if I was actually trying to change things. Basically, if you're having a bad day, I would advise against reading this.

Hanzo Shimada was on his way to the range when a solid force knocked into him. Hanzo managed to keep his balance, the ninja that he was, but his compatriot was not so lucky.

"Woah t'here, darlin'. Didn't see y'ou there'," says Jesse mccree, Hanzo's stupid coworker who he had a secret gay crush on.

Hanzo glared tsundere-ily at the voice. McCree tried to get to his feet but falls over again, tripping over his shoelaces.

"Silence, foolish cowman," Hanzo bellowed.

"Sorry, s'weetheart. Gue'ss I'm kinda clumsy today. I never lear'ned how to tie my sh'oes'. Too many steps, ya know?"

Handso watched, aroused, as The Cowboy fumbled around on the floor. Oh how he longed for this man to be his, but he didn't know how to talk to people.

"You are an imbecil," Hanzo said, nose in the air, leaving Jesse to sit in the dirt.

"Sorry sugartits, ain't know what that word means,"

"Don't call me sugartits,"

Hanzo huffed off to conceal his metaphorical and also possibly physical boner. The second The Gunslinger was out of sight, Hanzo's brother caught up to him.

"Hey girl," Genji greeted, sucking a dick.

"H-"

"So have you let him put his throbbing dong in your tight asshole yet?"

Hanzo stared at his brother who he was inexplicably completely emotionally stable around. For a moment, he wondered if perhaps Genji's comment had maybe not been something that a sibling would typically say, but quickly got over it.

"No, I have not," Hanzo replied, blushing, "im too shy."

"But you want him too, right?" Genji asked, painting his nails.

Hanzo tried to lie about about it. However, he took one look at his brother's visor and broke down into tears.

"I'm so gay," Hanzo sobbed.

"I know you're homosexual," Genji replied, patting Hanzo's head with a dildo, "So is every man. Why are you telling me this?"

"I jus wannt hi;m to succ me dong,"

Genji continued to pat on Hanzo's head until Hanzo stopped crying, several hours later.

"It's alright, brother. Just ask him if he'll suck your dong and I'm sure he'll do it," Genji said, "He'd fuck anything."

"...Maybe. I don't know how to ask,"

"God, you're such a twink," replied Genji to the forty year old, 80 kilogram ex-yakuza boss with a hefty stick up his ass, "Just be upfront and confess to your senpai. Try to blush and look at your shoes. Act like a 9 year old.”

Hanzo couldn't believe he was even thinking of this. To pursue something with as dirty and sinful connotations as a sexual relationship...

"Alright. I will talk to him. Thank you for your time. however now I must goes," Hanzo said, leaving the table and giving The Cyborg a wave goodbye.

It was almost time for their recon mission. Hanzo put on his frilliest bra and panties under his archer outfit before going into the woman's bathroom to put on some mascara.

"You should let McCree blast your ass with his DNA," D.Va said, scooting up next to him to wash her face.

"Hello to you too," Hanzo snarked snakily as he did his lipstick.

"You know, I've always wondered. Why do you wear makeup? Is it to challenge McCree's Americanized version of masculinity?"

"No, it's more to give myself an Americanized appearance of femininity."

"Wow, that's so progressive."

Hanzo cleaned up in the bathroom and walked to Africa for their mission. He got there to see Mccree, Genji, Mei, and Junkrat who was working with Overwatch for some reason.

"Hey hannebee, can you help me with something?" Mccree asked.

Hanzo turns red from head to toe at the sound of his gay crush's name. He blushed further red, almost purple when he caught sight of Mccree's huge, combat-cup shaped dick bulge. "what do you need help with?"

"Well, im trying to count how many bullets I have left, but i cant remember how to count past two."

Hanzo walked up to jesse, outstretching his hands. The Western Man placed four bullets into hanzo's hands.

"One...two...three...four," hanzo counted. "did you get that?"

"What was the one after two again? Sorry, I'm from the South."

"Three," Hanzo answered slowly as he feels himself blush. A little rush went through him as their hands touched, and another as Mccree scraps his hand through his wild beard that looked like it was trimmed every other day.

"Well, thanks hot ass," Jesse said as he smacked hanzo on the rear.

"Can you not sexually assault me maybe?" Hanzo asked, resisting a little so that Mccree wouldn’t think he was some kind of unwholly slut, but giggling so that The Cowboy would know he wasn’t serious.

"Sorry, honey, I gotta. Just in case there's anyone left who's not sure I'm the man."

“I guess that’s true.”

"Anyway, I’ll see you later, i gotta go be incompetent."

"im glad ur gone," Hanzo lied, blushing as he ran away. He ran until he had gotten to a good sniping spot so that he could do the thing he was supposed to do. out of the corner of his eyes, he caught mccree's eyes on him, which caused him to blush. McCree watched as Hanzo drew back an arrow and killed a talon agent, straight through the head.

"Wow, that was so hot," said Mccree as the man bled out, chunks of him flying.

"No it wasn't shut up lol," Hanzo said blushily he didn't know how to deal with flirting. Hanzo blushed. He never did this. His brother was the cum dumpster, not him.

“God, they’re so gay,” Ana whispered. Hanzo blushed.

The rest of the mission went as to be expected and they were back at Watch point in no time. There was an after party, but Mccree had left early. Remembering his early conversation with Genji, Hanzo blushed as he knocked on Mccree’s front door.

“Hey,” McCree greeted, leaning against the doorframe with a smile and a pair of lowriding sweatpants that showed off his incredible dick bulge.

“Hello,” Hanzo mumbled. He stared at his shoes and blushed, just like he’d practiced in the mirror.

“What can I do you for?”

Unable to think of anything else, Hanzo bowed, “I love you, senpai. Like I have never loved before. Will you do me the honoring of...be my boyfriend?”

Mccree smiled, slow and sweet.

“Well, howdy about that, ya’ll. I always thought you might have a soft spot for ‘lil old me, but I never thought I’d see you like this.”

“Do you return my affections, Mccree-san-chan?

“Yeah, but uh, call me Jesse.”

“Jess-y?”

“Yeah, like that,” Jesse lifted Hanzo's body off the ground and carried it bridal style to the bed. "I'm in love with you babey."

Hanzo blushed. He blushed again as Mccree set him down on the bed, and once more as Jesse undid his hair ribbon, his medium shoulder length hair coming down well past his butt.

“It alright if I fuck you sugar-pie?” Mccree asked once they were on the bed.

"No," Hanzo giggled, squeezing his titties together.

Mccree brought Hanzo's mouth roughly to his own and kissed him, his tongue hitting the back of Hanzo’s throat. Starting to feel the dirty, shameful sensations of lust and sexuality, Hanzo pretended to pull away at first, but let Jesse pin him down against the mattress.

When Mccree finally touched his butt, Hanzo went stiff.

“Hmm?” Mccree asked.

Hanzo the physical god and the most attractive person in the entire world didn't know how to tell Jesse that he was still a virgin at forty. So he blushed and stuttered like an Asian woman in a studio porno until Jesse got the hint.

"You're a virgin?" Mccree asked. Hanzo nodded and blushed. "Oh, that's ok. I'll be careful with you. That's why I brought the anal beads."

Hanzo blushed but was secretly happy because not only was he a virgin but he was also super kinky. His asshole fluttered.

Mccree's dick took a while to get out of his pants. When he did, it reached high in the air, stretching several meters above both their heads. As for thickness, it was at least the width of a person’s neck.

The important part was that it was bigger than Hanzo's.

Hanzo mewled and whimpered as McCree stuffed his fallacious cock into his ass. He felt a drop of blood drip from his no-longer-virgin seel, staining the sheets.

"Harder, Jesse," Hanzo begged, drooling.

"Can you really take more?”

"You're so big! _Ochinchin._ "

Mccree winked. "Thanks, sugar doll. You know what they say about southern men; what they lack one head, they got in the other."

With that, Hanzo came, all over himself and Jesse and the walls. Jesse hung the bloody sheet out of the widow so that the neighbors could know that they had become one flesh, as was tradition in the 1800s. Hanzo closed his eyes, his depression cured.

“Bye, Genji,” Hanzo said as his brother turned off the camera and turned to leave.

“Bye, brother,” Genji replied as he left. “Glad to know I make a good wingman.”

Satisfied, Hanzo cuddled up next to Mccree. But to his surprise, he found The Cowboy with a frown on his face.

“Are you alright?” Hanzo asked.

"Yeah. Hang on, I have to answer a phone call."

Mccree placed his phone next to his ear. Hanzo burned to hear a woman's voice.

"Hello? No, I'm not giving you your stupid bike back. How did you get this number?"

Hanzo continued to burn with jealousy.

'Who is that?' he mouthed to Mccree.

'Old girlfriend,' Mccree replied with air quotes, "Or, at least she was until people decided me having an ex girlfriend was somehow a sink to McHanzo and so Blizzard chickened out on twitter after realizing it was a bad financial move."

Angrily, Hanzo grabbed the phone from Mccree.

"What? You're not allowed to talk to other people," Hanzo said, putting the phone up to his ear, "Listen here, you stupid bitch, why can't you stay away from my man? Don't call-"

With a smashing sound, Ashe came flying through the front window of Mccree's room. She advanced towards the two of them. Hanzo wasn't really sure how she'd gotten in, but whatever.

"This is all wrong," Ashe said to the both of them.

"Huh?" Mccree asked.

"This is...kinda gross. The way you're acting. Your dynamic. You're acting like Abrahamic puritans."

"What's wrong with it?"

Ashe scratched her head. "There's three things at play here," she said, "Firstly, there's the mentality that women should be ashamed of their sexuality. That's how rape culture is born."

"And the other two?" Mccree asked.

"Secondly, there's the fact that people feel the need to make one of you the woman in the first place. Lastly, it's not great that Hanzo is the one who gets made into a woman. You could say that it's because he's short, but It's clearly at least in part because he's Asian."

Hanzo opened his eyes with realization. Removing his Hatsune Miku hair extensions, he realized Ashe was right.

"I suppose that is concerning," Hanzo replied. 

"Yeah, you're like some kinda racial stereotype," Jesse said, sounding the words out.

"Should we...stop?"

"Well," Ashe replied as she scratched her chin, "Maybe not. I mean, if it's genuinely your fantasy, I think you should write whatever you want. But you should probably understand it a little bit better. And maybe not just do what everyone else is doing."

"Who are you talking to?" Hanzo asked.

"We should start this sex scene over. Try to make it a little more progressive.”

McCree scratched his chin, “Sounds good.”

Ashe gave a thumbs up.


	3. Chapter 3

Once upon a time there lived a dragon man named Hanzo (he/him | leo | bi | non-binary | complete gender and sexual identity available at this [link](https://www.nick.com/shows/icarly)) who liked flowers and cupcakes. He also had a dark past, although that remained unexplored. Lastly, he had a date-mate. A soft, squishy cowboy who liked bubbles, crying in the shower, and eating the rich. Neither of them have any flaws, as those are bad.

"alr'i'g'ht, darlin', you ready for sex?" Mccree asks as he and Hanzo finished their flower crowns, "Do you mind if I touch titty?”

Hanzo blushed. He and McCree had been dating for three years but had never once even kissed. This would be their first time together, as long as Hanzo consented.

"Yes I Consent To This," Hanzo replies, sticking his titty out.

“Perfect,” McCree says. He rubs his hands together, “Let me see what you’re packing, honey.”

Hanzo unzips his pants to unravel his twin dragon cocks.

“Wow, Hanzo, how come you get two dicks?” McCree asks.

“This is to combat the harmful stereotype that Asian men can only have one penis,” answers Hanzo as he stands up on the bed.

Jesse nods in awe as he pulls out his dick, which although is still giant, is dolled up in a tiny cowboy outfit.

“Wow, you’re so big,” Hanzo remarks.

“You know what they say about southern men,”

“On here? Or on Tumblr?”

Hanzo giggles as McCree slips on the lubricant and slides halfway across the room.

""Wops, sorry. I'm still pretty stupid," Mccree remarks.

"But now I am too," Hanzo replies as his brain atrifies.

Mccree crawls back to the bed, sliding the whole way. Hanzo giggles. At first glace, they might have seemed like exceptional people, they were actually quite mediocre and relatable to the common man. 

"Darlin', I'm so gay for you, sweetheart. So gay," says Jesse Mccree, the man who looks like he used the word 'gay' as a casual insult until he was fourteen, regardless of his sexuality.

Hanzo giggles again as he pushed his two dragon cocks to the side and opens his legs so that Mccree can stuff him full of cowboy cock 

"Owo poopsikins I cant quite get it to fit," Mccree frowns as his dick refused to compromise.

"That's ok, we can just cuddle. The gay pride parade is in fifteen minutes anyway."

"Do you want to practice our chant?"

Hanzo nodded. Staring into the depth of the void with McCree, he opens his mouth.

"We must defend the marginalized," they begin to chant as the void swirls, "We must defend the marginalized."

"Do you ever wonder if this reduces people to their vicumhood?" asks Hanzo when they're finished.

"Nah," Jesse denies.

“God, we’re so progressive." 

"Of course. Can you believe those degenerate republicans? They're so bigoted and elitist. God, everyone is so elitist. Not like us."

"Yeah. If I'd been born in Texas, I would have cured internal misogyny by age eight."

"Yeah. I guess we're just inherently better than other people?"

"You know what? Valid. We should ban straight white men from being able to write books."

"Not enough. We should burn the books they've already written."

"Exactly. Along with all the people with thoughts we disagree with. They're so elitist."

Mccree clicks his tongue and pulls out his phone. Hanzo watches over his shoulder.

"What are you doing?" Hanzo asks.

"Oh, nothing. Just checking Tumblr," Mccree responds, showing him the screen.

Hanzo takes a look as Mccree scrolls.

"Woah," Mccree remarks.

"What?"

"This author wrote something that I personally interpreted as offensive. God, I hate how edgy everyone tries to be nowadays. This MLM fic is so problematic that I wouldn't be surprised if a straight man wrote it."

"Are you going to say anything to the author who offended you?"

"Of course. I'm going to shout at them to change it. See, it goes one of two ways. If I'm interpreting it correctly and what they wrote was genuinely hateful, the only way I can get them to change their mindset is by bullying them until they no longer feel comfortable voicing their thoughts."

"That seems reasonable."

"And if it wasn't actually offensive and I just interpreted it incorrectly, then it's their fault for writing something that could have been interpreted incorrectly."

"Perfect. And what if it's a shade of grey?"

"A shade of what?"

Hanzo shrugs.

“Wait a minute," Mccree says as he looks between the two of them, "Wait.”

“What?”

“We’re a vigilante from the South and an ex mob boss. Why are these our values again?”

“Because these are the only values a person can have and be considered morally justifiable. As an author, you can’t just show cultures that inevitably have problematic elements to them anymore, because mentioning that they even exists offends people. You have to strip others of any cultures they might have and replace them with your own morally whole values.”

“That kind of sounds like religious conquest, but alright.”

Hanzo shrugs again. Filled with the sudden need to draft a blog post, Mccree takes a stand, both metaphorically and literally.

"I'd like to talk about something very important," McCree announces.

"What?" Hanzo asks, crying with joy, "Whatever it is, I support you."

"Gun control. See, here's the thing. Guns are very dangerous and anyone who doesn't think we need to ban them is a horrible selfish monster-"

"Alright, that's it!" Ashe yells, bursting back into the room, "This is even worse!"

"What do you mean?" Hanzo asks.

"I wanted a cowboy," Ashe sobs, pointing at Mccree, "Who's this fucking liberal?"

"Cowperson," Hanzo corrects, raising his finger.

"Why does he have a tattoo on his face that says _Support Trans People_?" asks Ashe.

"So that we know he's a good person," Hanzo answers.

"God, I can't believe Ashe hates transgendered people," Mccree mutters to Hanzo.

"No I don't! Why would you assume that?"

"Because I always assume that when someone criticizes the way I support a concept that they're actually just criticizing whatever I support."

“No!” Ashe shouts, “That’s not it! McCree probably would support transgender people. But not like this.”

“Then how would he?”

“A man in his late thirties from New Mexico? He would probably support them _silently_ and only when it actively came up. And not because he’s ashamed, just because it’s not the only thing on his mind to support. He would probably wait for the topic to come up instead of doing what you guys do and pull it out of nowhere. And yes, I know that you all seem to think that not talking about an issue all the time every second of every day isn’t Real Activism. But you know what? It also doesn’t reduce people to their victimhood. It makes it easier for you to remember that trans people are people when you don't spend every second of every day differentiating them in your mind from everyone else. Transgender people are normal people and they should be treated as such.”

"But I don't wanna," Hanzo wines.

“He could even be transgender. You could make both of them trans for all I care. But if you're going to wipe away their personal cultures and replace them with your own middle-class internet social justice millennial syntaxes and socio-political thought processes, you can't act like you always have the moral high ground. That's literally the same logic as white washing."

"But people who don't have the same socio-political thought processes as us are evil," Hanzo replies as he takes a sip of Cool-Aid, "Every last one of them."

"And can we talk about your fucking full on evasion to giving people any flaw besides rampant mediocrity?" Ashe asks, "Why do you think that people can't have flaws?

"Because," Mccree replies as he rolls his eyes, "if writers give characters flaws, society would erupt into moral-less chaos. Any depiction of a flaw is unadulterated celebration and normalization."

"No! You have to let authors give people flaws!"

"I don't waaaaaanaaaaa," Hanzo wines, "Why should I?"

"Because good people have flaws. Flaws are realistic. And writers want to remind you that people's flaws don't always come from evil, but from understandable and relatable reasons that we should all slow down and think about. They want to communicate the idea to you that if even though people constantly hurt each other out of ignorance, they're usually trying their best. If you don't recognize that something is supposed to be a flaw, that's your problem."

Mccree sighs.

"Alright," he admits, "We may be acting a little cultish. We'll start this fanfiction over."

"What should we do?" asks Hanzo.

"Why don't we just do what the most popular stuff does?" Mccree responds.

Ashe gives a thumbs up.


	4. Chapter 4

Hanzo Shimada sits in the conference room and watches the honey dissolve into his coffee. 

He takes a sip, running the flavor over his tongue. He's always had an affection for sweet things; the first bite of cake, or just licking his fingers of powdered sugar after handling a donut. 

Speaking of sweet things, Hanzo's heart jumps at the sound of familiar footsteps and the sweet scent of tobacco. Casually, Hanzo turns to greet the newcomer.

"Formal greeting," Hanzo says.

"More laid back greeting," Mccree replies.

They sit in silence, at least for a moment. Hanzo looks down at his hands and thinks of their dynamic.

He and Mccree had known each other for a year. They were friends, perhaps, although their friendship remained undefined. Sometimes, when both ended up drunk on the same night of chance, they opted to stay up together and speak of guns, tobacco, and liquor. When combat was slow on a mission, they often snuck off together to speak of guns, tobacco, and liquor.

Mccree doesn't know it, but Hanzo's quite fond of him. A little too fond, perhaps. Hanzo tries not to think about it.

A muffled but sudden sound rings out and they both jump. Hanzo chuckles, recognizing it as the start of D.Va's stream a few floors up.

"Kids, huh?" Mccree asks with the start of a smile.

Hanzo replies with a dark joke.

"Damn. You got a wicked sense of humor," Mccree remarks as he shakes his head, "Anymore where that came from?"

Beaming, Hanzo nods. He opens his mouth to utter another dark joke that's very funny.

"Goddamn, Legolas," Mccree smiles.

"What is a Lego Lass?" Hanzo asks as he's never seen or read Lord of the Rings before as he didn't grow up in an English speaking country.

Mccree chuckles at Hanzo's face and the fact he's never seen or read Lord of the Rings before as he didn't grow up in an English speaking country. It's very endearing to him.

Mccree watches Hanzo from the other side in thought. He studies the curve of Hanzo's face intently. It's so familiar, somehow, but so distant. He's always wished he could get closer to Hanzo, but he's not sure how. 

"Wait, who's perspective is this from again?" Hanzo asks.

"It's omnipotent," Mccree answers.

Hanzo shrugs. Mccree's eyes are suddenly drawn to the coffee beside Hanzo. He's not sure why but it somehow reminds him of Hanzo. It's almost a metaphor for Hanzo himself, coffee: hot, sweet if you give it the time, and inside of a ceramic cup.

"White day is coming up," says Hanzo. He clutches the secret small box of chocolates in his pocket he's brought with him with a familiar name on the rapper. He's been debating whether or not to gift them for a while now.

Mccree raises an eyebrow. "How's that one work again?"

"[ Valentine's Day ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Valentine%27s_Day#Japan)in countries which observe White Day is typically observed by girls and women presenting chocolate gifts (either store-bought or handmade), usually to boys or men, as an expression of love, courtesy, or social obligation." Hanzo answers. :On White Day, the reverse happens: men who received a [honmei-choco ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Honmei_choco)(本命チョコ, 'chocolate of love') or [giri-choco ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Giri_choco)(義理チョコ, 'courtesy chocolate') [[4] ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_Day#cite_note-4)on Valentine's Day are expected to return the favor by giving gifts. [[5] ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_Day#cite_note-uh-5)Traditionally, popular White Day gifts are [cookies ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Cookies), [jewelry ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Jewelry), [white chocolate ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_chocolate), white [lingerie ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lingerie), and [marshmallows ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Marshmallows). [ [6] ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_Day#cite_note-6)Sometimes the term sanbai gaeshi (三倍返し, 'triple the return')is used to describe the generally recited rule for men that the return gift should be two to three times the worth of the Valentine's gift. [[7] ](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_Day#cite_note-Iroha-7)"

"Oh, wow. You gonna get anything for anyone?"

"I've been considering it..."

Hanzo strokes the package in his pocket as he wonders if now is the time.

Glancing to both the right and the left, Mccree leans forward on his elbows. The pace of Hanzo's heart quickens.

"Who were you thinking about?" Mccree asks.

McCree must know. He must. Hanzo's heart is pounding as he reaches into his pocket. 

Hanzo slides the chocolates to Mccree with a blank face. Now, both of Mccree's eyebrows are raised. 

"My name's on this," Mccree says.

"It would seem so," Hanzo replies with a white face.

The air is thick with surprise and anticipation as Mccree placed the chocolates carefully in front of him.

A moment went by. Hanzo wasn't sure who moved first, but all of a sudden he was kissing Mccree and Mccree was kissing him, their hands tangled in each other's-

"Wait, where's Ashe?" Mccree asks as he quickly pulls away.

"What?" Hanzo replies, dazed.

"Why hasn't Ashe crashed through the window yet? I'm worried about her."

Hanzo shrugs.

"We should look for her," Mccree adds.

Nodding, Hanzo searches the room with Mccree. They quickly find Ashe on the couch, fast asleep.

"Ashe?" Mccree asks. He nudges her side with his foot.

"Hmmgmg?" Ashe mumbles. Mccree nudges her again.

"Why were you asleep?" Hanzo asks once she wakes up with a stretch and a yawn.

"So...bored..." 

Ashe is hit with a fresh round of snores. Mccree has to kick her again to get her to sit up.

"What's wrong with this?" Mccree asks, voice brimming with frustration, "We've tried everything. How is this boring you?"

Sighing, Ashe stands up, "Because it...it just feels like a more toned down version of the last chapter. Your characterization is so vague and non-offensive. Did Blizzard write this?"

"What do you mean?" Hanzo asks.

"Well not to mention the lack of personality, you both just feel like shells of who you could be. You have the clothing of men from Japan or the States, but nothing else. No values or philosophies, or at least nothing that's definitive enough to be more than a nod."

Mccree shakes his head sadly, "Culture isn't important, Ashe. Haven't you ever watched an after school special?" 

"Really? Culture isn't important in this ship? Culture class isn't the main reason you two are shipped in the first place?"

Mumbling to himself, Hanzo kicks awkwardly at the ground.  

"You don't want it to be non-offensive?" Mccree asks, bewildered.

"Not all the time. Do you really think that two people from two very different countries with different customs and cultures and standards for what is and is not offensive would always be non-offensive? I want to know what Mccree thinks of anime. And what he thinks of the depiction of Americans in anime," Ashe replies.

"Now you're just complaining about things not aligning with your own personal tastes," Hanzo points out. 

"It's not because it exists that irritates me. It's that it feels like that's all there is. Hallow, vague characterization of these people, their pasts, and their cultural backgrounds."

"Perhaps that's just because people prefer to write like that."

"Maybe, but sometimes I wonder if it's just to avoid getting yelled at in the comment sections by people who sit around all day looking to find something that could possibly be interpreted by offensive." 

Hanzo thinks to himself about Ashe's words, considering their validity. Somehow, he feels like everything is just a bit too complicated.

"Alright, I think I've found away to voice my thoughts," Ashe announces.

"Lay 'em on me," Mccree offers. 

Ashe stands up on the couch, "Here's the deal. If you're writing vague characterization because you like it, or because you don't personally feel comfortable writing about cultural, or you just want people to be able to more easily project their own interpretations of this ship onto your work, then that's perfectly fine. But if you're doing it because you're afraid of these guys,"

Ashe pauses to point at the Hanzo and Mccree from the last chapter.

", you shouldn't do that. You shouldn't have to bend down to that."

"And that would make you happy, Ashe?" Mccree asks.

Ashe nods, "What do you think, Hanzo?" 

Hanzo reaches into his pocket and pulls out a bag of white powder. 

"You guys wanna do some cocaine?" Hanzo asks.

"Sure!" Ashe and Mccree respond in unison.

Ashe, Mccree, and Hanzo all do cocaine and die and live happy ever after. The end.

 


End file.
